


Moments To Build On

by Interrobang



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pure Unadulterated Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: Three short looks into Satya and Fareeha's relationship. Written for the Law & Order Symmarah Zine.





	Moments To Build On

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Law & Order Symmarah Zine, and it was super fun to work on. The second vignette is based on a ficlet I wrote on tumblr a couple years ago, so I was very happy to be able to expand on it. <3

The Watchpoint’s hangar was not the most well-lit of places. Sure, during the day the wide doors let sunshine and sea breezes in, and there were fluorescents high in the lofty ceilings to provide some light. But it was not meant as a workspace - there were no tables, no machinery; nothing that would indicate it a good place to get anything done. 

Yet Satya watched Fareeha toil away on her suit in the dim light. A wave of orange and pink light lit up the woman’s face as the sun set over the sea, making Fareeha squint. Yet Satya could only sigh and lean her chin on her hand, enjoying the play of light on the metal of the flight suit and the shine of her partner’s hair.

“Do you want help?” Satya called across the room. She’d been sitting for some minutes - Fareeha  _ had  _ insisted it would only be a few moments more - and while she wasn’t bored yet, neither was she entertained. At least not as entertained as she would have been by their planned dinner and a movie. 

“No, I - I got it,” Fareeha tightened a bolt with a grunt. “I think there’s a loose nut rattling around in there somewhere.”

“Let me get it,” Satya said. “I have finer tools.” She primly hopped up from her seat, dissipating the hard-light stool with a wave of her hand. Her heels clicked as she walked across the concrete floors to where Fareeha stood with her propped up suit. 

Fareeha was much taller than Satya, and it took a hard-light step stool for Satya to get up to the level of the suit she needed to see. Satya snapped once more. Immediately a thin line of blue hard-light barely thicker than a piece of twine snaked its way out of Satya’s fingers. It wound its way under the lifted panels of the suit - around wires and tubing and other tech - searching for its prey.

Satya stared into the middle distance as she felt around with her ghostly finger. Then— 

“Ah, there it is.” Satya nodded to herself. She split the blue beam into smaller threads, wrapping around the loose piece of metal and pulling it free from the recesses of Fareeha’s suit.

She set it down on a small table. When she looked up, Fareeha was smiling at her with a dopey grin. Motor oil was streaked across one cheek. Satya blushed. 

“Dinner?” Fareeha asked. She held out her hand. Satya stared. It was also covered in the remnants of Fareeha’s work. Instead of taking the hand in her own, Satya wound her arm around Fareeha’s, joining them at the elbow.

“Dinner,” Satya confirmed.

\---

Fareeha woke in the middle of the night to a faint shuffling sound and the clear sound of someone having stubbed their toe. 

“Satya…?” she murmured sleepily. She squinted across the room. She couldn’t make out the clock, but it was obvious that it was far too early for any kind of running around.

Fareeha sat up in the dark, squinting around. She patted the bed: empty, Satya nowhere to be found.

“Habibi, what are you doing?” Fareeha called to the dark. She slapped around for a lamp, but before she could find the switch her – her girlfriend, maybe? – blinked something on her arm. A small sphere of hard-light appeared, glowing a soft, dim blue over what Fareeha had come to think of as ‘their’ bedroom.

“Leaving.” Satya’s eyes were wild, darting all around the dimly-lit room. The woman ran her fingers over her hair, smoothing it obsessively under Fareeha’s sleepy gaze. “It was time for me to go.”

“Where are you going?” Fareeha asked, blinking against the sudden brightness. “Did you have a mission on the roster? Did I forget something again?”

Satya stiffly shook her head, refusing to make eye contact. She never did when she was anxious; Fareeha knew it was hard on her in the best of moods. “You should have your space back. I will return to my room. We can have breakfast together tomorrow.”

“Wait — hold on.” Fareeha pulled her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up fully. She reached over to place a gentle hand on Satya’s pajama-clad hip. “This is your space too.”

“I still have my own quarters assigned. It would be rude for me to take over yours, too.” The architect gestured at the space around her. The sphere moved with her, illuminating the matchbox of a suite. “And I did not think you would want me here in the morning. I look awful.”

Fareeha looked at her with a queer expression, surprise evident in her raised eyebrows. She carefully stroked Satya’s hip with a thumb, caressing the soft fabric of her oversized borrowed t-shirt. “Come back to bed,” she said softly. “I want you here. I like you in the morning.”

Satya looked positively frustrated. Her eyebrows drew down in a scowl, her free hand clenched at her side. “You have never seen me before…before I make myself presentable. I’ve made sure of it.”

“I’ve seen you fresh from combat and in those awful hospital gowns we keep in the infirmary. It can’t be worse than that. Come here,  _ habibi _ .” Fareeha tugged her gently, urging her closer.

Satya reluctantly returned, sitting gracefully on the bed next to Fareeha and smoothing her sleepwear. The shorts were shorter than Fareeha expected she would wear, borrowed from Fareeha’s own drawers. Somehow, Satya managed to make old basketball shorts look sophisticated.

Eventually, Satya went back under the still-warm sheets, moving around until she was on her side, stiffly turned away from her partner. Her shoulders were tense, drawn up to her ears - yet her fingers fiddled with the sphere of light, making it dim and glow in turns. Fareeha lay a hand on her back, rubbing soothingly until Satya began to relax. Then without fanfare, she curled up behind her. Fareeha didn’t sling an arm around Satya —   too confining, too much contact for the architect – but she rested her forehead between her shoulder blades and closed her eyes.

“This is your space too,” she repeated. “I want you to feel comfortable. What can I do to convince you?” 

“Let me set an alarm to clean up before you can see me in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t kiss me until you’ve brushed your teeth.” 

“I can do that.”

“Also, please do not leave your contact solution open all the time. It’s unsanitary and makes me worry about bacteria in your eyes. And—”

Fareeha laughed but patted Satya’s hip. “Alright, alright, I get it. I promise to clean up more. And - you know I’m head over heels for you, right?”

Suddenly, the stiff shoulders were back. Satya tore herself away, sitting up abruptly. The tiniest lights played on her arm, a sure sign her heart rate had jumped. The globe of light bobbed above them.

“I–” She swallowed. “What?”

Fareeha put a hand on Satya’s thigh and looked up at her with a soft expression. “Yeah.  _ Ana bahebak, habibi _ . I love you. I thought you knew.”

“I…I thought perhaps…maybe…”

“Did you think I’d kick you out in the middle of the night? No. Do you know how many times I’ve woken to an empty bed wishing I had you there? You’re quite comfortable to sleep by, you know. Very pretty.” She gestures to her face. “You lose the little wrinkle between your eyebrows, and sometimes you let out the littlest noise, like you’re dreaming something interesting.”

“I…see.” She slowly, almost too slowly, and lay back down. Fareeha pulled the covers back over them. This time Satya faced her, hands curled up by her chest. The hard-light still floated above them, illuminating their faces. In its glow, Satya’s expression looked conflicted, her mouth firm and small in concentration. Fareeha blinked heavily and sighed.

“I’d have you sleep here every night, if I could,” she admitted.

“No going back to my own bed?” Satya looked thoughtful, eyes downcast into the dark of the gap between them under the sheets. 

“No,” Fareeha said firmly. “No, I don’t think so.”

Satya slowly shuffled closer until their knuckles brushed against each other. Then, surprise of all surprises, she entwined their fingers. It was such a gentle gesture, and yet extremely forward coming from the touch-averted woman. 

“I don’t know how to say it in the language I had before Vishkar picked me up,” Satya said quietly. “But I love you, too.” She leaned forward and kissed Fareeha not on the lips, but on the forehead, tender and gentle. The light winked out with a wave of her hand.

Fareeha sighed happily. Perhaps in the morning, she could show Satya the joys of a shared morning routine. But just then she was content in the full, heavy darkness that draped over them. Soon enough, she heard Satya drop off into slow, deep breaths. She smoothed a line out of her girlfriend’s forehead with her thumb and closed her eyes to follow.

\---

The Watchpoint’s actual kitchen was big enough to feed an army, but when Winston noticed that people were eating in their bedrooms in lieu of braving the cavernous cafeteria, he installed smaller tables in a rec room, renovating it into a makeshift family dining area. It wasn’t odd to find people in there at all hours of the day - making meals, chatting with friends, working on paperwork - but there were always lulls.

Satya was fond of lulls. They allowed her to breathe. They were an orderly, expected break in the machinery of her day, and though they were rare, they were treasured. 

Four in the morning was one of these times. When she couldn’t sleep - or when her bed was too lonely with Fareeha traveling - she would come to the kitchen at four a.m., the sweet hour between Hana’s stream and early breakfast. She’d make a pot of tea - something strong and spiced - and sit down to soak in the warmth of her cup and think her thoughts.

Tonight, the tromping of boots interrupted her meditative pondering. She glanced up, then wordlessly poured a cupful into the mug next to her own.

Fareeha sat down with a groan, her body still. She was rough around the edges: hair tangled, makeup smudged, shirt stretched out and sweaty. She looked exhausted.

“Welcome back,” Satya said softly. She reached out to pat Fareeha’s hand, stroking across her scraped knuckles. “Long trip?”

Fareeha nodded, humming her agreement into her mug. “Yeah. Too long.” She looked up at Satya and smiled tiredly. It crinkled the early laugh lines around her eyes in a way that made Satya’s heart flutter. “I’m glad to be home. Glad to see  _ you _ ,  _ habibi _ .”

Satya ducked her head and let a small blush pinken her cheeks. “I’m glad you’re back...my love.” She said carefully. She grasped her mug with nervous hands, taking a deliberate sip. 

When she looked up, Fareeha was smiling widely, pure glee obvious on her face. It lit her up in a way the pale tones of dawn in the window outside could not. It chased away the layer of travel grime and crust of exhaustion and made Satya’s throat tighten for how beautiful it was. 


End file.
